


Comfort Food

by myaso



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Drabble, Food Issues, Other, Short, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 16:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17083598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myaso/pseuds/myaso
Summary: Without much work to do, Havoc finds other ways to keep his hands busy.





	Comfort Food

Havoc knew that, eventually, the work would dry up. There was only so much that he could do from his bed, especially with Riza as the resident 'paperwork person' around; whether he liked it or not- and it was pretty clear how he felt about it- Jean was out of things to do by the end of the first month.

He had categorized every hill and shrub visible from outside of his bedroom window, and counted the number of loops in the lace curtains about a dozen times. He fiddled with his hands, idly, hoping that something to do,  _anything_ to do, might jump out and surprise him. Let there be some monster waiting just outside his window, that he could alert everyone to- hell, he didn't even need to be a hero, he just wanted to be doing **_something_** other than laying in bed like a lump.

It was mostly infuriating because he still had some feeling in his lower limbs, if not incredibly marginal. He tried and failed to wiggle his toes, to even twitch one of his legs upwards or downwards or side to side- it always failed.

And so, first out of frustration and then out of boredom, Jean ate.

It kept his hands busy, and kept him from spouting off any bullshit to the nurses. That was probably why they let him do it. Mustang, Riza, and some of the others had all commented on how much better of a mood he seemed to be as he stuffed his belly full of hand pies, an entire platter of them going in in under 30 minutes. He didn't stop there, as he rarely did anymore; meat and beer followed his meal, which would have been the same as his old diet, had he not been consuming 2-3x as much of the stuff.

When his hands weren't preoccupied with shoving more food into his mouth, Jean liked to explore his body. His gaze slowly but surely turned from the latticework of the curtains, to the pink, vivid striae blooming across his lower belly and thighs, in turn keeping his mind busy as he imagined just how much further he could expand out. He took no active pleasure in the act of growing fatter, but he didn't necessarily take  _displeasure_ in it, either; rather, Jean saw his continued expansion as just a fact of life, something that would continue for as long as his legs stayed lame and limp.

Physical therapy grew a bit harder as he became harder to move, but he had already packed on quite a few pounds by the start of it, so he was used to it. It was only a slight adjustment with a few extra helping hands, after all- besides, it wasn't like he was expecting a miracle anymore.

As, indeed, no miracle came, Jean resigned himself further to his weight gain, as if making up for his lack of ability to shatter expectations placed on him by instead shattering the scales.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short thing. Based on a pic by softbodlover @ tumblr/Furaffinity.  
> You can go to my twitter (https://twitter.com/robotpornhell) to find out how to support me!


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